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Grim Scary Tales
Grim Scary Tales by Baba Yaga (Hero-U). Now, we have our own very special bedtime storyteller to tuck all you children into your chilly, gravelike beds. From her house perched upon bird's feet and surrounded by glowing skulls, Baba Yaga tells a tale to her beloved kids, a bat and a spider. Grim Scary Tales “All right, kids, it’s that old time again. Time to turn off the old glowing skulls and go off to bed.” “What’s that, Flaps? You want to go out – again? Ha! I know you’ll stay out past the sunrise, then come flailing against my bedroom window expecting me to get up and let you in. Forget it. Just settle yourself in the rafters and go to sleep.” “You aren’t sleepy? Humph. You want ME to tell you a bedtime story after all this flap you are giving me? “Well, yes, it is your middle name, so I suppose it’s only fair. All right then, I’ll tell a little tale about a human boy who couldn’t sleep. I call it.." Too Stupid The street was dark with all the shops closed and only the neon “No Vacancy” signs glowing. Yeah, right… no vacancy at this time of year? Tourist season was way over. More likely the owner had gone off to bed. It’s only eleven at night! Everyone in this stupid town must be too bored to stay awake. He shook his head and walked towards Vons where he could buy a coke or something. At least there was one store that stayed open all night. Even stupid Micky Dees and the Yo Quiero Taco place were shut down. He should be in his room playing his X-box game right now, but his stupid mom was having his room painted and his stuff was all out in the garage. So he was supposed to be sleeping on the couch in the living room. She and Dad would notice if he tried to watch MTV or play games in there. Who cares about a good night’s sleep? That’s for boring losers. He had slipped out the side door and walked the four blocks downhill into town. On the corner was a cutesy-poo plyboard bear wearing overalls and a straw hat to advertise the Oakhurst Harvest festival. It was too stupid! He pushed it over and crushed the stupid smile on the bear’s face with his nike. It wasn’t as much fun as it had been last month tearing down the M&M signs for the Chocolate Weekend with his pals. His friends were probably all playing their Playstations right now and listening to their CD’s. His stupid parents only bought him an X-box and now they kicked him out of his own bedroom! Geeze. He came to the low rock wall that bordered the graveyard. Only a stupid town like Oakhurst would have a graveyard right in the middle! Why not? The whole town was a dead end. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. He wandered up into the cemetery. Sometimes people left useful things on graves. Mostly they just left stupid plastic flowers. He and his friends figured the world was a better place without stupid plastic flowers, and sometimes came up here to grab them off the tombstones and toss them all around as a public service. You’d think people would stop wasting their money after a while. But no… Ugly plastic flowers everywhere. Some people were too stupid to learn. A cold breeze rustled the leaves around him. Better that than the endless heat of summer. This felt more like winter, somehow. He dropped kicked the nearest bunch of flowers out onto the main drag of town. Maybe some car would run them over by morning. He got the creepy feeling someone was watching him. Nope, no cars around, no bored tourists looking for something to do. The next set he kicked out in the suicide lane. That might even survive for a day or so. He tried to get a couple of sets of flowers over to the other side of the road, but fog was starting to settle, making it difficult to see that far. He felt hair rise on the back of his neck. The streets were still empty, only dimly illuminated by a piece of the moon and the glow from the stoplight down the block. He gave a quick glance at the graveyard hill behind him. Nope, no nosy caretakers with their flashlights trying to protect cheap, plastic flowers from teens like him. Then he started at the sight of a man standing in the shadows of a twisted oak tree. What kind of pervert hangs around cemeteries in the middle of the night? He watched to see if the guy would yell or do something, but the figure just stood there. Maybe it was one of the mentals that ran the can recycling place. So why was the stupid retard standing around here? He walked up toward the figure, confident that he could outrun anyone if things got ugly. Besides, it was downhill all the way. He stopped about fifteen feet away, easy escape distance. Even in the darkness, the man seemed pale and slightly hunched over as if too old for his bones. He was even wearing a suit like he was dressed up for a wedding or something. This was too strange. The kid called out, “So What are you doing here?” “This is my home,” replied the man unemotionally as he just stared back at the kid. “Right. So you live in a graveyard,” sneered the kid. “I don’t exactly live here,” said the man with a slight smile as he stepped into the moonlight. His long hair was stringy grey like an old Harley rider. The guy’s hands had yellowish nails about as long as Mom’s plastic manicured ones. His eyes were so pale, they looked blind with cataracts. “You one of those homeless who push shopping carts around?” asked the kid as he picked up an acorn off the ground. Acorns can really sting if you throw them hard enough. “Go back to the city – we don’t need people like you here.” “This is my home,” repeated the man in a whispery voice. “I’m a ghost.” “Oh, yeah, sure,” said the kid scornfully as he hurled the acorn right at the guy’s face. It should have nailed him between the eyes. The man didn’t even blink. No way he could have missed, but he couldn’t see what happened to the acorn. He quickly grabbed a couple more and sent them flying at the guy. No response. They must have missed, too. “So what do ‘ghosts’ like you hang around in graveyards for?” he said, scouting around for more ammo. “We await fools who trespass our resting place at midnight.” The ghost slowly rose into the air. “Then we kill them.” “No… no… ghosts aren’t real,” said the kid watching with growing horror as he realized this wasn’t just some nifty special effect. Then the ghost dove toward him. The kid turned and bolted down the hill for the street. If he could only get out of the cemetery, he’d be safe, right? This is a small graveyard; it isn’t far to run. The low rock wall edging the graveyard is easy to jump... Suddenly the ghost appeared directly in front of him. The kid tried to dodge, but he tripped over a bouquet of plastic roses. He fell, smashing his head against the rock wall. The wraith hovered for a moment over the kid’s body in disappointment. That hadn’t taken any time. No real sport at all. The kid had just been too stupid to believe in ghosts. "There, wasn’t that a sweet little tale with a happy ending? Now we can all settle down and get our beauty sleep. " "What was that, Flaps? What’s an X-box? Well, it’s a, a… Never mind that now. Just go to bed comforted by the fact that ghosts will continue to save the world from stupid people." "What's the moral? Oh, yes, of course it has one. After all, it just 'ghost' to show you - staying awake is a grave mistake."https://web.archive.org/web/20031016075741fw_/http://transolar.com/TSstupidtale.html References Category:Alternate Canon Category:Articles (HTBAH)